Hannibal Goes To Hollywood
by european coffee addict
Summary: Amy helps Hannibal in his unorthodox ways to get a new movie role. She just loves the jazz too, right? This time she gets a little more than she had asked for.
1. Chapter 1

_Copyright disclaimer:_ Of course the guys are the intellectual property of Stephen J. Cannel, but the story is mine.

_Thank yous: _A big thank you goes to LaurieM, who did a great job with beta reading.

**Hannibal Goes To Hollywood**

I.

Once again the team had just finished a job, successfully of course. They were sitting in a diner and eating doughnuts.

"Ok guys, who gives me a lift to Hollywood?" Hannibal asked.

"You don't need a lift to Hollywood, man," BA said with a full mouth. "What you need is a better costume and a good script." BA chuckled.

Hannibal overheard the comment. "Face."

"Aw sorry Hannibal. I have an appointment at seven p.m. and I have to take Murdock to the VA before. I don't wanna be late."

"Who is it?" Amy wanted to know. "Darleen, Darcy, Marcy…"

Face glared at her.

"BA, you can give me a ride," Hannibal tried with his Sergeant.

"No I can't, see I have to be at the children's center by six, don't wanna miss the ballet performance."

"Ballet performance?" Hannibal looked irritated.

"Sure, the ballet school has premiere tonight. I promised lil' Maria." The angry look that he turned on Hannibal told him that BA didn't wish to be asked any further about ballet performances.

"Amy? The Courier isn't far from Hollywood, is it?" Hannibal tried.

Amy sighed and raised her hand in capitulation. "Ok, Hannibal, but you should really think about having your own car."

II.

One hour later Amy turned off to the set of Aquamaniac VI.

"They're shooting at night, today?" she asked Hannibal.

"Sort of," he murmured. "There, the silver trailer is mine."

Amy stopped in front of the trailer.

"Thanks, kid."

"You're welcome."

Hannibal stepped out of the car and went to the door of his trailer. When he read the name-tag on it, he turned to Amy in disbelief.

"I can't believe it."

"What?"

"It says Mickey Bathos. Who the hell is Mickey Bathos?"

A script girl hurried over to them. "Sorry Johnny, but they threw you out."

"Threw me out? Why?" Hannibal looked at her in disbelieve.

"It is the second time you disappeared from the set. Nobody knew where you were and when you would come back-"

"But this time it was just for two days," Hannibal protested.

"I feel so sorry, Johnny."

"Bathos? This is the new man? They're kidding me?"

The woman gave him an apologetic look. "I'm afraid not. The director was furious when your friend came here and you left with him. He chucked your stuff out of the trailer himself. I packed it, You can pick it from the requisites chamber."

Hannibal smiled at her warmly. "You're a good soul."

III.

Then he slowly walked back to Amy who had watched the scene with growing wonder. Hannibal flopped into the front seat. "I'm not the Aquaman any more," he said with some sadness in his voice.

"I'm sorry Hannibal, but I'm sure in a couple of days you're the slime monster or something like that," the younger woman offered encouragingly.

"Yeah," Hannibal said slowly.

"Now, should I take you to your apartment?"

"Err, no."

"Where then?" Amy watched him from the side. Hannibal took out a cigar, ripped off the wrapping and lit the cigar. He looked as if he were thinking seriously, as if he would make up his mind with a plan.

"What's up, Hannibal?" Amy asked. "You do have an apartment, don't you?"

"Of course not," Hannibal said sharply.

"Of course not?" Amy echoed.

"Why would I need an apartment, when I have a fine trailer, well had…"

"You really have no apartment?" Amy asked in disbelief.

"It's just a waste of money. I mean, I'm either with you guys or I'm on set, well supposed to be..." Hannibal pressed his lips together.

Amy's chin dropped. "I can't believe this. A waste of money?"

Hannibal turned to her. "Look Amy. As a guy in a green rubber suit, I don't get the same pay Antony Hopkins gets, not exactly. And also most of our clients aren't a big source of money."

Amy looked confused. "The last payments weren't that bad."

"Well, not enough for the four of us. And since I'm the only one with a regular income I get the smallest share."

"Why? I thought you're dividing it equally?"

Hannibal looked uncomfortable. "Not really. BA needs money for the center and I bet he's sending a certain sum to Mrs. Barracus. Murdock needs money for his assets, you know video games, dog food and stuff. And Face, well I think at least he deserves to have a bit of the life he wished he had, when we're off duty. And I don't need to send money to somebody; I also don't need to have stylish clothes or a fancy apartment to impress the girls. And I don't need to pay a psychiatrist for myself, well not yet." Hannibal smirked.

Amy stared at him. "But you're the one who is taking jobs, even if the clients haven't enough money."

Now a grin crept over Hannibal's face. He looked at Amy with a sparkle in his eyes. "I know kid, not very smart, isn't it?"

Amy understood the side blow very well. "Oh boy, I was just starting to feel sorry for you."

Hannibal would never miss an opportunity to remind her that she had conned the team, when she hired them to rescue her friend Al Massey, because she hadn't enough money. Nevertheless Amy had to smile now, as she remembered BA's words:

"You'll learn to love him mama, but it takes a looong time." She tried to hide the smile, but failed. Then Amy took a deep breath. She indeed felt sympathy for Hannibal.

"Look." Amy cleared her throat. "Before you're checking in into some sleazy hotel, you can stay at my place."

Hannibal's eyebrows went up. He observed Amy curiously, with eyes wide open, which made them appear even more supernaturally blue.

"I mean, it will only take you a couple of days to get a new job and a new trailer, won't it?" she quickly added.

Hannibal smiled again. He took the cigar out of his mouth. "Ok, Triple A, let's give it a try."

IV.

On the freeway Amy reflected about her situation. She had known the four men for a couple of months now. She genuinely liked Murdock, even if his crazes were getting on her nerves from time to time. She knew Murdock loved her, in a Murdock-way; in a playing-skat-with-the invisible-dog-Billy-way and in a watching-the-Woody Woodpecker-marathon-and eating Burgers-way. It was easy for Amy to discover the good heart behind BA's angry mudsucker façade; she liked him for being straight and honest. It was also easy to like Face. Amy would never admit but, yes, Face was handsome and charming; well, a bit too charming to fall for him, but nevertheless she liked him, sometimes more, sometimes less. Amy also liked Hannibal, somehow. She knew he had his heart in the right place, even if it was hidden behind an invincible leader most of the time. But Amy also knew there was a dangerous side to Hannibal. The side that made him the effective soldier he was, the side that made him a scammer and a womanizer, probably, if he wanted to and a killer if he must. In brief, a man her mother would have warned her about. Amy hadn't decided yet if she ever would like this side of Hannibal Smith.


	2. Chapter 2

V.

„Don't smile at me this way," Face said testily. "You start again playing with my mind, don't you? Just tell me what the hell you want from me?"

Face and Hannibal were sitting in a four star French restaurant, having dinner. Hannibal wore a black suit with a black vest and a white shirt. He looked like a very successful businessman from a higher level of management. Face wore a casual beige jacket. He looked like a man who wasn't working himself, but was letting other work for him.

"How is your movie company going? Miracle films – can we bring it to live again?" Hannibal took a sip of red vine and looked at his friend. It didn't escape Face that Hannibal put some elegance into his movements.

"Are ya kiddin' me? After you crashed the premier party? Miracle films is ruined."

"As far as I remember Decker crashed the party, course you had your flashy smile on the front page. And if I wouldn't have warned you, you could produce in-depth reportage from the federal slammer now."

"Aw Hannibal…" Peck pulled a face.

"C'mon. The MPs were just the right PR-gag. Now Miracle films is just the right company for some hot drama."

"I have already sold the script of 'The Beast of the Yellow Night'."

"No monster this time." Hannibal's steel blue eyes were sparkling. "What do you think about this one?" He put a well-thumbed book on the table.

"Mussolini: The Decline and Fall of Il Duce?" Face read out loud. "Are you nuts Hannibal?"

"Don't you think the role of Il Duce would suit me?"

"You're not Anthony Hopkins, you're not!" Face exclaimed with an ironic smirk.

Hannibal ignored Face' sarcastic side blow and smiled confidently. "I know, I'm much more attractive."

Face groaned. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"I need you to warm up Miracle films. Tell the Hollywood folks you want to produce some high quality movie. You recently have bought the script from some promising European writer. Of course you have John Smith in mind for the role of Benito Mussolini. John can portray just the right mixture of charisma and tough inhumanity, don't you think?"

"Sure you do, Hannibal." Face picked up a green been from his plate. "But what is it all for? You don't expect us to produce a real film at all? Not to speak of the biography of Mussolini! Do you?"

Hannibal grinned. "Of course not."

"So would you mind to tell me the whole plan?"

"I just need real good advertising for me. The folks should learn that producers are interested in me."

Face looked puzzled. "What about the greasy agent, whom you love to play yourself?"

"Nah, not this time." Hannibal waved with his hand.

"Why not?"

Hannibal chewed on a potato, slowly. He decided that Face didn't need to know the whole story.

"See, it made the round in Hollywood that I left in the middle of a shot and that I hadn't returned for days. It's hard to get an assignment if they think you're unreliable. What should I do? Tell them that the government is chasing me? That thirty years in the slammer are waiting for me? The studio bosses just need to be convinced that I'm hot and they will forget about this small deficiency."

Face sighed. "Ok Hannibal. Do you have something special in mind?"

"Great Face." Hannibal patted Pecks arm. "I have a very talented European script writer. She just graduated from some important European film school and has written the script of Il Duce. She also would like to see her account on Mussolini played by John Smith."

Face lifted an eyebrow. "So did she?" Hannibal nodded with a big toothy grin.

"And who is she?" Face wanted to know.

"Nobody less, than our beloved Triple A." Hannibal's grin grew even bigger.

"Did Amy know this already?"

"Not yet, kid."

"Great, just great," Face whined. Lately he had discovered some atmospherics between him and Amy, so he wasn't too keen on working with a slightly short-tempered reporter.

* * *

VI.

"Forget it, Hannibal!" Amy stood in front of her temporary roomie and had her hands stemmed to her hips. Amy was a feminist deep inside her heart. But when she joined the A-Team she pretty soon figured out that her feminist side would collide especially with Hannibal and Face. Amy always had been a practical woman. At that time she had decided that she also could put greater emphasis on her feminist side after she got the Pulitzer Price. But still she had her limits that were better not to be extravagated.

"You haven't even listened to what I want you to do," Hannibal noted.

"It won't be necessary. I know how you're playing your own agent. I have seen it. I'm not playing the bimbo to one of your greasy performances of what ever agents or underworld bosses you have in mind."

"But you did it in Las Vegas. You gave a great performance of Toni Vincent's girl," Hannibal reminded her with a happy grin.

"Las Vegas was different, Vegas was important."

"You tell me, Las Vegas was more important than this?", Hannibal challenged her.

"You tell me, it is important at all to scam some producer of ultra-cheep horror movies?" Amy retorted.

"So do you want me out of your apartment or not?"

"That's not fair," Amy muttered under her breath. "Ok what's your plan, Hannibal?"

"Have I ever told you that you look somewhat European?" Hannibal began.

"What?" Amy crossed her arms.

"You look very French indeed, just like Sophie Marceau in 'La Boum – The Party'," Hannibal went on.

Amy's jaw dropped. It was never a good sign when Amy's jaw dropped and Hannibal knew it. He had to admit that he couldn't get Amy's cooperation the playful way this time.

"I need your help Amy," he said plainly.

"Yeah, you always need my help when someone has to wear a skirt," Amy snapped.

Hannibal shrugged. "If I would look good in a skirt, I would do it myself, but my legs are just to hairy for it."

"What was about 'The Vampire Who Bite Maggie Thatcher'? You were confident to get the role." Amy still hoped to get out of it without searching her closet for the shortest skirt she had.

"They thought the role might fit me, but it was the same director like 'The Slimemonster' and he was really pissed, cause Lynch busted the scene, twice.

"I see." Amy sighed heavily.

She knew, she should not give in to that. The last time Hannibal had asked her for a favour her car got destroyed beyond recognition. Another time Hannibal made her wearing an uncomfortably short skirt and leaning over the engine of Face's Corvette, pretending something is broken, in order to make their adversary stop by and leave his car, which he soon regretted. Not to speak of Vegas, where Hannibal enjoyed playing the sexist, macho underworld boss way too much, in her regard. And that she had to play along as his girlfriend made matters only worse. Sometimes Amy wondered how much of that demeanour was just acted and what was part of him, John Hannibal Smith. Although her feminist side deeply execrated that part of being with Hannibal and the team, there was some side of her that enjoyed such situations in a wicked way and caused her an unfamiliar tingle in her belly.

Amy took a long breath. "Okay, Hannibal, what's your plan?"

Blue eyes sparkled. "You are some young, talented French script writer, who came to Hollywood to start her big American carrier. You are already star of independent movies in France, but you want more. You are greedy for success."

"Yes, right", Amy coughed.

"We will spread rumour that you even have sorted out the finer points of your new script between the bed sheets with one producer." Hannibal gave the younger woman a toothy grin, while he was speaking; his voice was dripping with amusement. Amy realized that he was in a mood where he would not take anything serious and would make every endeavour sound hilarious and entertaining. And if Amy was honest with herself that was definitely one of the things what she liked about him.


End file.
